


Cup of Sugar

by sassy_dae



Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Seunghyun is a mess, Short & Sweet, daesung being his adorable self, just seunghyun being a mess of emotions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:20:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25309630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassy_dae/pseuds/sassy_dae
Summary: Seunghyun can’t stop staring, mouth slightly open.  Oh—oh God. This can’t be happening, Seunghyun panics. Kang Daesung, the adorable, gorgeous, nice, cute, sexy, golden god from across the hall is standing in front of his door, looking like a goddamn snack in his tight white shirt and fitted jeans.The five times Seunghyun runs into his neighbor, Daesung, and manages to not embarrass himself (too much).
Relationships: Choi Seunghyun | T.O.P./Kang Daesung
Comments: 10
Kudos: 22





	Cup of Sugar

“Hi! Sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you had any sugar I could borrow? I’m making some cookies for tomorrow, and I’m completely out!” Daesung smiles sheepishly as he rubs the back of his neck. 

Seunghyun can’t stop staring, mouth slightly open. Oh— _oh God_ . _This can’t be happening_ , Seunghyun panics. Kang Daesung, the adorable, gorgeous, nice, cute, sexy, golden god from across the hall is standing in front of his door, looking like a goddamn snack in his tight white shirt and fitted jeans. _And he’s talking to me, smiling at me._ Seunghyun’s lizard brain tells him to _run—_ close the door, hide under the sheets of his bed, in the dark, and never come out. Because there is _no way_ he can recover from the embarrassment of answering the door in his coffee stained white t-shirt, his old baggy faded college sweat pants (that are two sizes too big), thick black glasses, and hair sticking up. The other half of his brain is telling him to _say something, anything_. He may never get another chance like this!

Daesung shuffles his feet, waiting for Seunghyun’s response. But when Seunghyun just continues to stare, trying to process the situation, Daesung bows his head slightly, clutching his measuring up behind his back. “It is a rather strange request this late at night, isn’t it? I’m so sorry! I just saw the light on under your door and thought—again, sorry for bothering you.”

Seunghyun’s eyes open widely, finally realizing that he’s just been standing there like an idiot. He clears his throat and adjusts his glasses, trying to give Daesung the best smile he can muster. He hopes it looks casually cool instead of completely terrified “N-no, no problem! I was just finishing up some work emails. P-pl-please, come in!” Daesung smiles brightly in return, causing Seunghyun to swallow, his mouth suddenly dry. Running a shaky hand through his unwashed hair, he moves sideways, making room for Daesung to enter his apartment.

As he leads them into the kitchen, Seunghyun tries to think of something to say that might make Daesung stay a little longer—have a real conversation with him beyond the inconsequential interactions they’ve had over the few years they’ve lived across the hall from each other. They’ve had hundreds of small moments—bumping into each other in the mail room, throwing out trash at the same time every Sunday, sharing elevator rides up and down every once in a while. They’ve even ridden the same bus to work a couple of times (though Seunghyun made sure to sit in the back, so he could watch Daesung). But those only produced a few short conversations—nothing more than an introduction of names, talk of the weather, plans for the holidays. 

And each time Seunghyun has wished he had said something more so that he could keep talking to Daesung. Instead he’s held onto each interaction dearly like little seeds that might one day bloom into something more than fleeting moments. He honestly never thought he’d have Daesung standing in his kitchen, cutely holding a measuring cup in his hands expectantly. _God, how could a grown man be so adorable and sexy at the same time?_ Seunghyun thinks to himself. 

“I really appreciate this, you’re a lifesaver! It just completely slipped my mind to buy sugar. You’d think it’s the first thing I’d buy for making cookies, right?” Daesung chuckles quietly, the sweet melody making Seunghyun’s ears redden.

“N-no problem! I’m pretty sure I have some somewhere, I just need to dig around my cabinets for a minute,” Seunghyun says. “Please, take a seat, make yourself comfortable. W-would you like something to drink?” _Real smooth, Seunghyun,_ he chides himself. 

Daesung shakes his head, his fluffy chocolate hair dancing around his head. “I’m fine, Seunghyun-ssi. I don’t need to impose on you any more than I am.”

Seunghyun feels his face heat up as his name slips through Daesung’s lips. He could get used to it. Taking a deep breath, he refocuses and turns toward this cabinets. He begins searching, though he’s 100% sure he knows where the sugar is. But Daesung doesn’t know that, and Seunghyun can’t let this opportunity go to waste. “So is there a cookie occasion? Or you just had a craving?” 

“It’s my stage manager’s birthday tomorrow, so I thought it’d be nice if I brought in a treat for her and everyone at the theater,” Daesung says from his spot at the kitchen counter. He rests his head in his hands, watching Seunghyun fumble around his kitchen. “They are sugar cookies too, so having the sugar is pretty important.”

Seunghyun hums, agreeing, and finding Daesung’s pout infinitely adorable. “Well, I’m here to help.” He pretends to thoroughly look through one set of cabinets before closing the doors and moving onto the others. “I think it’s really nice of you to make cookies. No one ever makes cookies for my birthday,” Seunghyun laments. 

“I can make you some next time! I enjoy baking,” Daesung says from behind him. Seunghyun stands up quickly, smacking his head on the cabinet door. “Oh! Seunghyun-ssi! Are you ok? Do you need some ice?” Daesung says, concerned. Seunghyun begins rubbing the now forming bump in embarrassment. He shakes his head, making a noncommittal noise from the back of his throat before turning back to the cabinets. He doesn’t think his body can heat up anymore than it is now. _Calm down, Seunghyun. All he mentioned was making cookies, not offering himself to you,_ he scolds himself. _Is the idea of eating Daesung’s baked goods so appealing? Get a grip, Choi._

Seunghyun, so absorbed in his own shame, doesn’t hear Daesung move towards the freezer, pull some ice cubes out and place them in a kitchen towel. Seunghyun jumps in surprise as the cool cloth settles gently on his head. He turns around quickly, coming face to face with Daesung. It’s the closest they’ve ever stood, their faces only a few inches apart, and Seunghyun thinks his heart might burst out of his chest. _Can Daesung hear it? How it pounds in his chest?_

He watches Daesung’s eyes flit up, frowning softly, and Seunghyun has to fight the urge to kiss Daesung’s pout away. He breathes deeply in an attempt to settle himself, but instead ends up inhaling Daesung’s smell—and _goddamnit he smells so good._ Like fresh baked bread and hot tea and sunshine. _Like spring._ Daesung watches him carefully, his eyes scrunching up.

“Here, keep this on it. It’ll keep the swelling down,” he says softly. Seunghyun, his eyes never leaving Daesung’s, slowly lifts his hand to take the towel. Their fingers brush, setting his skin on fire. Daesung’s hand lingers for a few seconds, making sure Seunghyun’s got a grip on the cloth before letting go. “Why don’t we sit down for a minute?” Daesung offers. Seunghyun simply nods, letting himself be lead to a kitchen stool. He’s still so overwhelmed by their interaction that he almost misses Daesung’s hand lightly holding his wrist. _Almost_. 

He didn’t think he’d ever miss someone else’s touch quite so much, even if it was a fleeting few seconds.

They sit side by side in companionable silence, Seunghyun trying to get a hold of himself as Daesung looks around the apartment. It’s a mirror image of his—open concept kitchen, dining room, and living room. Unlike his, modern art adorn the walls while sketchbooks cover the coffee table and a small scale model of a house sits on Seunghyun’s dining table.

“Did you design that?” Daesung asks, remembering Seunghyun once telling him he’s an architect. Seunghyun turns his head, following Daesung’s gaze. 

“Y-yes. I, uh—I actually just sent in the final plans right before you knocked on the door,” Seunghyun mumbles, placing the now damp kitchen towel on the counter. 

Daesung gets up to take a closer look, but hesitates. “May I?” He asks, tilting his head towards the scale model. Seunghyun, taken aback by Daesung’s interest, silently nods. Daesung’s lips quirk imperceptibly before he leans down to look at the miniature house among small trees. The attention to detail is surprising to Daesung, much more intricate and vivid than any of his Lego houses or figures. This is a work of art. His fingers ghosts over the trees and roof top, not daring to touch it. 

Daesung practically jumps out of his skin as he feels Seunghyun abruptly stand behind him. “Do you—would you like to see inside?” Seunghyun asks uncertainly. Daesung nods enthusiastically as Seunghyun reaches over and pulls half of the roof off the building. “I-I designed it with, natural elements in mind. Like, hm…” He scratches his chin before deciding to turn the model around, showing Daesung the floor-to-ceiling back facing windows. “These face east, so you you’ll get the sunrise every morning. It’s like—it’s as if you are inviting the day into your home. And the whole house, well most of it, uses the wood from the trees we cut down to build it—either as stairs or furniture, or kitchen cabinets, or columns and beams. I didn’t want to waste such precious material. And I thought it would be nice to…to….” Seunghyun mumbles as he rubs the back of his neck, not sure how to end his thought. Swallowing, he’s suddenly self-conscious of his ramblings, thinking he must be boring Daesung shop-talk. But when he catches Daesung’s eye, he looks intrigued, as if hanging on Seunghyun’s every word. “To what?” he asks ever so softly, Seunghyun isn’t sure if he heard him. A ghost of a whisper. Seunghyun shivers imagining it on his skin. 

“I thought it would be nice to bring nature into the home, as if it were an old friend. Having it as part of the house, it’s a reminder of its sacrifice for our benefit, but also a— a thank you, for sheltering us.”

They stand in silence, staring at each other. This moment suddenly feels significant to Seunghyun. He’s let a small piece of himself out his shell, and he’s not sure how Daesung will take it—if he’s going to reach out and meet him halfway or leave him vulnerable. He hopes for the former, but braces for the latter.

“I don’t know much about architecture, or art for that matter, but that’s…it’s beautiful. A truly lovely sentiment,” he whispers, his smile a barely-there lift of his soft lips. Seunghyun holds his breath, his heart suddenly in his throat. They continue to stare at each other for a few seconds, Seunghyun getting lost in Daesung’s eyes. They may be small, but they are full of warmth—like a pool of light. _Like pure sunshine,_ Seunghyun sighs to himself. 

Suddenly realizing just how close they are, Seunghyun decides he needs to step back before he does something impulsive and, potentially, embarrassing. He clears his throat before heading back into the kitchen to ‘look’ for the sugar, opening and closing cabinets. 

“You don’t need to be an artist to appreciate architecture, or art for that matter,” Seunghyun parrots back Daesung’s words. “Besides, aren’t you an artist?” Seunghyun knows that Daesung is a performer, a stage performer in fact, because Daesung had mentioned it in passing once ( _it was two years ago, in the mail, on a rainy Wednesday afternoon; water droplets had caught on Daesung’s long bangs,_ not that Seunghyun admit to remembering any of that _)_ and Seunghyun made sure to look up every play Daesung had ever been in. _Just out of curiosity_ , he had reasoned with himself. 

“Only if you consider musical theater ‘art’. Some don’t consider it a _real_ art form. In the words of my ‘ _favorite’_ critic, ‘it’s just singing someone else’s songs and moving around the stage, doing the same motions over and over again.’ Or, ‘Nothing more than a clever use of stage lights and costumes’,” Daesung shrugs, looking down at his hands. 

Seunghyun scoffs at that. _That critic sounds like a fine prick._ Nothing irks him more than people who think themselves gatekeepers of art. He turns quickly, placing both hands on the counter. “Not everyone can sing, and just because you can hit some notes or carry a tune doesn’t mean you can emote when you sing. It takes empathy, skill, and artistic vision to portray raw and real emotion. And to do it while acting _and_ dancing, well, that’s just talent.” he says with conviction. The subject of _art—_ who it belongs to or who has the right to define it— isn’t art for _everyone_? 

Daesung stares at Seunghyun— eyes big and cheeks flushed before he lowers his head, hiding his face behind his hair. “I…I appreciate that. Thank you,” he says softly. He looks so small, and so _adorable_ that Seunghyun once again fights off the urge to smother him in kisses. 

After a few more seconds of silence, Seunghyun decides he should quit while he’s ahead. He’s taken up more of Daesung’s time than he possibly could have dreamed of, let alone had some semblance of a conversation with him. _Small steps, small victories,_ he reminds himself.

Crouching down, he pulls open a cabinet door and snatches up his large jar of sugar. Placing it on the counter top, he gently slides it towards Daesung. “Here, take as much sugar as you like.” Daesung looks up, eyeing the jar. He smiles brightly, his eyes crinkling and turning into little half moons. Seunghyun blushes, but doesn’t look away. 

Daesung scoops up a hefty amount with his measuring cup before heading towards the door. As he enters the hallway separating their apartments, Daesung turns and bows deeply, “You are a real lifesaver Seunghyun-ssi. Thank you.”

Seunghyun shakes his head, “You are welcome to come bother me for sugar, or anything, anytime.” Clearing his throat and taking a deep breath, Seunghyun turns his sharp eyes squarely on Daesung. “And please, call me hyung. That is—that is, if you like.” 

Seunghyun fights the urge to look away, knowing he can’t hide the rush of heat to his cheeks and ears. Daesung looks at him a little owlishly, head tilting slightly before breaking into a warm smile. 

“Sure thing, Seunghyun-hyung.”

Once he manages to close his door, Seunghyun leans against it and slides down to the floor. He’s suddenly lost all feeling in his body. 

=========

Seunghyun hums along to the song streaming into this ears as he separates his clothing into lights and darks. He normally doesn’t do laundry this late at night, but he’s run out of clean work shirts and he has a big presentation tomorrow. He needs to look his best, look _sharp._ Luckily for him, there doesn’t seem to be anyone else around. Besides the one dryer tumbling away, Seunghyun has the whole room to himself. He should do laundry on off days (in the middle of the night) more often, he thinks to himself. 

Adjusting his earbuds, he continues to hum as he tosses his dark clothing into the first washer. Seunghyun, really digging this song, stands up to gather his lights, shimming back a little. He’s really _vibing._ So much so, that he doesn’t notice the person who has just walked into the laundry room—and bumps right into them. He practically jumps out of skin, dropping the armful of clothes onto the floor as he clutches his hands to his chest. _Fucking hell!_ He can almost hear his rapid heartbeat in his ears over his loud music. 

He turns quickly, coming face to face with a slightly smirking Daesung. That only makes Seunghyun panic more; he can’t seem to catch his breath. Daesung settles on the ground next to him and begins rubbing a hand up and down Seunghyun’s back to soothe him. But it has the opposite effect; all Seunghyun can focus on is Daesung’s proximity. He’s so close, a hair’s breadth away. And the hand on his back is warm—it feels nice, _really nice_ . So Seunghyun tries to focus on something, _anything_ , else to get himself into one piece. He notices Daesung is wearing an oversized red hoodie, black sweatpants, and matching black beanie. He looks so cozy, it makes Seunghyun want to crawl into Daesung’s lap. Seunghyun looks down at his own outfit, and internally moans. _Please, someone kill me_ , Seunghyun thinks to himself. _Of course Daesung is here, looking fucking adorable in his matching sweater and beanie while I’m in these ridiculous teddy bear pajamas. And oh! I must have looked like a complete idiot dancing!_

Daesung doesn’t seem to notice Seunghyun’s internal struggle, and begins asking him something. But Seunghyun can’t hear him. He remembers his earbuds, and he fumbles to yank them out, not even bothering to turn off the music. “S-sorry, what?” He mumbles, his face heating up. 

Daesung laughs, pulling back a bit. “Sorry, hyung. I didn’t mean to scare you. You really seemed to be enjoying yourself, and I didn’t want to bother you. But, you were blocking my way to the dryer.” Seunghyun turns to look at the one lone dryer tumbling away, his neck reddening. “Right, of course, sorry,” he mumbles to Daesung, picking up one of his fallen socks off the floor.

Daesung smiles at him warmly before leaning over to help pick up the scattered clothing. “I’m surprised to see you here this late at night."

“I procrastinated a bit too much and now I’m left doing laundry at 1 AM,” Seunghyun says, the tips of his suddenly hot. 

“I get it. I usually do laundry after work, and since I sometimes don’t get back home until 11, this is the only time I have to do laundry. I like it though. It’s quiet, and the machines are always free.”

Seunghyun nods, agreeing. “I couldn’t believe there were _two_ washers available. I tend to do multiple loads and end up taking all day to finish.” Seunghyun reaches out for the last sock on the ground just as Daesung does too. Their hands touch, and Seunghyun sucks in his breath. _Electric—_ it was like electricity had traveled between them, right? Or did they create it? Did Daesung feel it too? Seunghyun begins to lift his eyes, but stops himself, suddenly afraid. He knows he has a terrible poker face; his feelings are always written all over his face. And he’s not entirely ready to share those feelings with Daesung just yet. 

After what feels like minutes, Daesung clears his throat and reaches for the sock, placing it in Seunghyun’s hand. Seunghyun clasps it in his fingers, slowly letting out the breath he had been holding. “Thanks,” he mutters. 

“Of course, hyung,” Daesung smiles, before standing up to stretch. 

They go about their chores as if nothing had happened, making small talk—how nice the weather has been, complaining about that one really loud guy that lives down the hall, what music Seunghyun was listening too, if they have plans for the weekend. Seunghyun finally loads all this clothing into the washers (he ends up using three), while Daesung’s clothing finally finishes drying. It feels easy, practically domestic, as if they were real friends and not just neighbors.

As Seunghyun tells Daesung about the project he’s proposing tomorrow (the whole reason he’s doing laundry in the first place) Daesung removes his beanie to scratch his head. Seunghyun stops mid-sentence, completely taken aback. Daesung has dyed his beautiful chocolate brown hair to something…something else entirely. 

He can’t help but stare—Daesung’s silver-blue hair seems to shine like moonlight. _It’s breathtaking, truly breathtaking_ . Daesung notices, and shyly runs his hands through his newly dyed locks. “Ah, yeah, I just got it done this morning. It’s for the new show we’re opening on Friday. I’m supposed to seem _other-worldly,_ but I think I look more like an idol wannabe,” Daesung chuckles, though Seunghyun seems to think it’s more out of embarrassment than actually finding it humorous. 

“I think you look just as good as the idols on TV,” Seunghyun blurts out before he can filter his thoughts through his brain. Daesung pauses for a second before continuing to sort his clothing out of the dryer. _Nice going, Choi, you’ve made him uncomfortable!_ “W-what I mean is, you look heavenly.” _That’s not better! “_ T-that is to say, I think you successfully look other-worldly, celestial perhaps,” Seunghyun finally manages to say, though he’s 100% positive his ears are glowing red. 

“You’re not far off—I play Death,” Daesung answers, folding his vast collection of black T-shirts slowly. After a few moments, Daesung clears his throat. “Thank you for saying—for saying that I look just as good as the idols. I know you didn’t really mean it, but it’s nice to hear.”

 _What the what?_ Seunghyun stops fiddling with his hands and just turns sharply at Daesung, raising a questioning eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t I mean it?”

Daesung looks genuinely taken aback before he looks back down at his pile of shirts, taking the last one and slowly folding it in his hands. His newly trimmed bangs cover his eyes, making it difficult for Seunghyun to read him. He seems so small, Seunghyun thinks. “Don’t worry, hyung, I’m well aware that my face isn’t exactly idol material. Three years as a trainee taught me that.”

Seunghyun furrows his brows in confusion. “Trainee?”

Daesung nods, still not looking up from his folding. “You know, when kids go to those big companies to train to be an idol? I did that for three years in high school. My singing was good, and I’d even say my dancing wasn’t half bad, but in the end my looks killed my own dream,” Daesung shrugs, as if to say _that’s just how life is_. “But thankfully I discovered the theater scene soon after getting kicked from my label.” Daesung runs his hands over his folded shirts, smoothing out the wrinkles as he tilts his head slightly. Seunghyun can see a small smile form on his lips. “I get to sing most nights of the week, and the community is very supportive and loving. And if I can just make one person forget their problems a few hours in a day, then I’m happy.”

Seunghyun continues to watch Daesung, the sounds of water sloshing around the washer their only company. He thinks back to when Daesung had first come to his apartment asking for sugar, how he had just for a moment let down his guard. ‘ _If you consider theater art_ .’ ‘ _My looks killed my own dreams.’_ Underneath the warm smiles and bright laughter, Daesung hides invisible scars of insecurity and doubt. It reminds Seunghyun so much of himself, it makes him ache for Daesung. He wants to reach out to him, but instead blurts out, “I wanted to be an artist.”

Daesung looks surprised, but remains silent. He puts the last of his laundry in his basket, leaning on the folding table with his forearms, giving Seunghyun his full attention. Seunghyun swallows, rubbing the back of his neck. He’s not sure why he’s sharing this; he’s not even sure where he’s going with it. But for some reason he feels compelled to share with Daesung. It feels _right_. 

“I always wanted to create art, even went to special art schools all the way until university. I was pretty good at it, or I thought I was. At an art show in high school I even sold some paintings. The fact that someone saw my work and wanted it so much they bought it—that set my soul on fire. I could feel my future forming in front of me— my own gallery space, maybe have my own exhibit at a museum. But one day,” Seunghyun swallows, pulling on the sleeves of his teddy bear pajamas. “One day, on break from university, I went to my parents’ house. I was looking for some of my old paintings in their storage. That’s when I found all of my paintings—including the ones I had sold at art shows. Turns out, my parents had bought all of them. Everything single one, for years. And they had let me believe some stranger out there had seen my work and thought it worthy to adorn their wall, when in reality it was just collecting dust in their basement.”

Seunghyun leans on the table, steadying his shaking hands as he relives his humiliating discovery. “It was a rude awakening, but one I needed. Art had been my whole life; it had defined me as a person. Without it, I was lost. But after a few years of stumbling around at university, trying random things to fill the void, I discovered architecture. A functional art form where I could infuse my own views and personality into every detail. It was freeing, in a way. I found my way back into something I always loved. It just wasn’t in the way I thought it would shape out to be.” Seunghyun picks at some lint on his pants. “But that’s how life is sometimes. The road you take might not be the one you expected, but your destination is still the same. We both got to achieve our dreams, didn’t we?”

Daesung stares at Seunghyun, eyes wide and lips slightly. Seunghyun adjusts his glasses, feeling the heat on his face intensify with every ticking second. The swishing of clothing echoes through the room, thumping in time with Seunghyun’s rapid heart beat as he watches Daesung slowly approach him. Before he has time to register what’s happening, Daesung’s arms coil around Seunghyun’s body, hugging him. Daesung is _actually hugging him._

Seunghyun swallows slowly as he tentatively places his hands on Daesung’s back, feeling the strong muscles that seem to be carrying just a little less weight than before. It’s warm in Daesung’s arms, like wrapping yourself in a blanket during a thunderstorm. Daesung’s silver-blue hair tickles his nose, but it smells fresh like citrus trees during the summer. Seunghyun doesn’t really do hugs; he’s never liked people touching him or his skin. But this feels different—it feels _familiar._ It feels like home, a safe-haven, or perhaps… _love._

Seunghyun isn’t sure how long they stay locked in their embrace before Daesung’s phone starts beeping. The alarm makes them jump a little, though they don’t break contact completely. Daesung slowly pulls back, sliding his hands along Seunghyun’s arms until he stands an arm’s length away. “Thank you, Seunghyun-hyung,” he says, voice light but full of gratitude. Seunghyun nods, lost for words. 

“I have to get up early for rehearsals tomorrow, so I should be going. Have sweet dreams, hyung,” Daesung says with a gentle squeeze of Seunghyun’s arms before stepping back and collecting his laundry basket. As the door closes with a thump, and the clothes continue to swirl in the washer, Seunghyun wraps his arms around himself. His hands settle on the spot where Daesung’s had been, feeling the goosebumps that form there. With a shuddering breath, Seunghyun smiles to himself. Maybe he should do his laundry late at night more often. 

=========

Seunghyun stops at his door, one hand on the handle and the other clinging to his trash bag. He can hear voices in the hallway, one clearly belonging to Daesung and the other to another man. The conversation sounds heated, if not argumentative. Daesung tries to shush the other person, which only makes the man more upset. Seunghyun can’t quite make out what they are saying, but the urgency in Daesung’s voice gives Seunghyun pause. He leans his ear against the door, not intending to eavesdrop _per se_ , but trying to figure out if Daesung is in need of _assistance._

 _“_ … will you just _please_ leave?” Daesung seems to ask, somewhere on the spectrum of annoying frustration and desperation.

 _“_ Dae, don’t be like that—“

“Like what? Like I don’t want you here? Well, _I don’t.”_

“Come on, you don’t really mean that! It’s not like you’ll do any better than me—“

“ _Oh_ _really_?” Daesung scoffs. Seunghyun frowns, never having heard Daesung sound so hostile— so _sassy_. It’s a surprise, for sure, but also a bit of a turn on…? _No, no! Stop it! Not the time for that!_ Seunghyun shakes his head, before pressing his eat against the door once more. 

“If you are _so great,_ why are _you_ the one standing at my door? Why are _you_ the one that keeps crawling back to _me_ , not once, but _three times?”_ Daesung says loudly, then seems to say to himself, “Honestly, I don’t even know why we’re having this conversation.”

“It’s different this time, I promise!” The other man seems to be getting frustrated with Daesung, but persists none the less. “Look, I won’t leave until you look me in the eye, _really_ look me in the eye and tell me to go—“

“Ok, go!”

 _“Come on_ , _Dae,_ ” the other man whines, “You didn’t even let me finish!“

“Oh, for the love of God, _go home,”_ Daesung says at his wits end. 

Seunghyun suddenly opens the door, stumbling out in his baggy sweatpants, stained hoodie and trash bag in hand ( _he swears one of these days he’ll look like a functioning human being whenever he encounters Daesung_ ). The two men freeze, looking at Seunghyun in surprise. Seunghyun straightens up and adjusts his glasses before shuffling his way to Daesung’s side. If he’s honest with himself, Seunghyun isn’t entirely sure what he’s doing. He didn’t really have a plan, nor think this through when his hand decidedly moved on its own—opening the door, propelling him forward. All he knows is he felt the dejection in Daesung’s voice and wanted to protect him. 

While the condescending tone of the other man makes Seunghyun want to punch him.

Placing a shaky hand on Daesung’s shoulder, Seunghyun turns to him and asks,

“E-Everything alright, Daesung?”

Daesung, taken aback by Seunghyun’s sudden presence, simply looks at him with comically large eyes. Seunghyun clears his throat before tilting his head towards the third man, “Is this guy bothering you?”

The man laughs, running a hand through perfectly groomed hair. He crosses his arms ( _big arms)_ and gives Seunghyun one the slimiest smiles he has ever seen. “Look buddy, Daesung is _fine_. So why don’t you go about your business and leave us alone, ok?“ The man pokes Seunghyun’s shoulder with one finger, as if he is a mere insect, a pest, to be dealt with. His arrogant smile and flippant nature sets Seunghyun’s blood on fire, causing him to clench is jaw. Before he can help it, Seunghyun sets his trash on the floor and steps between Daesung and the man. 

“First, I asked _Daesung_ if he is alright, not _you._ He can speak for himself. And second, I am not your _buddy_ , so do not talk so casually to me.”

The other man’s smile falls, replaced with a scowl. “Look here, _dude_ ,” he says, pushing against Seunghyun's shoulder and causing Seunghyun to step back. “This is between _me_ and _Daesung—“_

 _“Daesung,”_ Seunghyun practically yells, turning his back to the man to face Daesung. Emboldened by the douchebag’s fury, Seunghyun gently takes Daesung’s hand in his own, running a reassuring thumb over his knuckles. “Are you alright? Do you need me to call the police?”

After a few seconds of observing their clasped hands, Daesung suddenly looks up into Seunghyun’s piercing gaze. Taking a deep breath, as if centering himself, he replies “Thank you, Seunghyun-hyung, but I think I can handle it.” He offers a reassuring squeeze of the hand. Clearing his throat, he turns to his unwanted guest before addressing Seunghyun. 

“I see you are on your way to the trash room, Seunghyun-hyung. What a coincidence, _so I am_ !” He smiles brightly, but it’s not his usual warm smile that seems to light up the room. No, this smile seems to say _I’ve had enough bullshit for one day_ . It’s pure _devilish._ Seunghyun swallows audibly as he watches Daesung grab the man’s arm and drag him down the hall. _Shit. That’s definitely turned on_. 

“What are you doing? Hey—let me go! _Dae_!” The man sputters, trying to pull out of Daesung’s strong grip. 

“This pile of garbage has been stinking up the hallway long enough, and it needs to go.” 

The pair abruptly stop at the elevator, Daesung smashing the down button as the man struggles to free himself. Seunghyun follows them cautiously, unsure of what to do in the situation. As the doors to the elevator open, Daesung pushes his unwanted guest into it, making sure to push the first floor button. 

“ _Kang Daesung!”_ The man yells angrily. 

“Please see yourself out! Oh and take this with you—“ Daesung grabs Seunghyun’s garbage bag out of his elevator and shoves it into the elevator. 

Seunghyun watches completely flabbergasted as the doors close on a confused looking man holding his bag of garbage while Daesung smiles and waves happily as if seeing off a good friend. After a minute, Daesung lets out a long breath, shaking the hair out of his eyes. “I’m sorry, hyung. I hope I didn’t disturb your Sunday afternoon,” Daesung says softly. 

Seunghyun eyes Daesung doubtfully before saying, “You just saved me a trip downstairs to the horrible smelling trash room. If anything, I should be thanking _you_.” Daesung chuckles quietly before heading down the hallway to his apartment. Seunghyun follows closely behind. 

“Friend of yours?” Seunghyun asks, not wanting to sound too nosy. 

“I don’t think we were ever really _friends,_ which is the root of all our problems,” Daesung says more to himself than to Seunghyun. “No, he’s an ex.”

“I see,” Seunghyun says slowly, thinking of his next words very carefully. “He seems like, like—“

“Like a narcissistic ass-hat?” 

Seunghyun sputters, not expecting such colorful language from his usually kind-hearted neighbor. _Sassy_ , he thinks fondly. _Definitely a turn on._ “I-I was going to say a passionate and overly confident man, but I like the sound of _narcissistic ass-hat_. Much more descriptive and accurate. Might have to save that one for later.”

A giggle bubbles up in Daesung’s chest, soon exploding into a hearty chuckle. Seunghyun watches as Daesung’s shoulders shuffle up and down in amusement, and he can’t help but wonder how anyone so full of light could see in someone so obviously rotten at heart. But maybe that’s the point—Daesung tries to see the best in people. Seunghyun wonders what Daesung sees in him—an awkward neighbor or something more? 

“Thank you, by the way, for stepping in to help me,” Daesung says, fiddling with his apartment keys. “No matter what I said, he just wouldn’t leave. I was about to start pulling my hair out.”

“Well—I, erm,” Seunghyun stutters. He can’t just say _Oh, no big deal, I was just eavesdropping on you and it sounded like you needed some help_. “I-I-I was just heading to the trash room and um, I heard you— I mean, I heard voices and um—“

“Don’t worry, Seunghyun-hyung, I know you heard most of that conversation. We weren’t exactly being quiet,” Daesung chuckles, patting Seunghyun’s arm lightly. “Either way, your interruption gave me some time to collect myself and just take action. So, thank you—for the distraction and for standing up for me.”

Daesung’s smile is so genuine and sincere that it burns Seunghyun’s heart. He can feel it being gripped and squeezed, and he suddenly finds it hard to breath. “Well, I-I did say you could bother me anytime for anything. T-that includes ass-hat ex’s bothering you.”

Daesung laughs, nodding in agreement. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He’s about to turn toward his door but stops himself, as in thought. He suddenly pulls his phone from his back pocket, typing something before turning back to Seunghyun. Seunghyun looks down at the phone, seeing ‘Seunghyunnie-hyung’ typed out on the screen. “Mind exchanging numbers? That way I can bother you anytime,” Daesung smiles sweetly, holding out his phone expectantly. 

Seunghyun stands frozen for a minute, trying to process the latest development in his non-existent relationship with Daesung. _Do it_ , his brain screams at him. _Smile, grab the phone and give him your number! This is your chance! TAKE IT! HURRY!_ After mentally slapping himself a few times, Seunghyun takes the phone with a shaky hand and types in his phone number. It takes him a few tries as his fingers keep slipping, but he hands the phone back to Daesung with a tentative smile. Daesung snatches it up, quickly typing out a message and pressing send. Seunghyun’s phone beeps, a message for an unknown number flashing on his screen. It reads:

‘ _:D it’s me! kang daesung! save this number’_

“There, now you can bother me any time too,” Daesung grins at Seunghyun, looking a lot like the emoji on his screen. “Have a great Sunday, hyung!”

Daesung closes the door behind him, leaving a bright red Seunghyun in the hallway. He can’t seem to move his legs. That night, Seunghyun gets a text from Daesung, inviting him to some ‘thank-you-for-saving-me-from-my-ex-coffee’. Seunghyun practically falls out of his chair, but somehow manages to respond. 

=========

“Hold the door!” Seunghyun yells, tripping his way past the closing elevator doors. He’s never been a morning person, so he always catches himself rushing in the mornings. But even his four separate wake up alarms didn’t get him up in time _. But the gods must be smiling down on me today_ , Seunghyun thinks as he sighs in relief as the doors shut behind him. _I’ve made it. I won’t miss the bus this time._

“Just barely made it there, hyung!” A bright, cheery voice says in front of him. 

Seunghyun freezes, eyes opening in horror as it slowly dawns on him that the reason he didn’t fall flat on his face is because something—or _someone_ —broke his fall. His caffeine-deprived brain begins working overtime, trying to catch up to what his body already knows— _Daesung is holding onto him._ Taking in a deep breath, Seunghyun slowly opens his eyes. He comes face to face with a strong, broad chest encased in a tight black t-shirt. Firm, tan hands grip his arms, steadying him in place. He instinctually squeezes his hands, only to learn that he’s holding onto Daesung’s elbows with an iron grip. They are standing _so close_ that he can feel Daesung’s body heat seeping into his very being. Fighting back the blush on his cheeks, Seunghyun breaths out slowly through his nose and fogging up his black rimmed glasses.

Daesung slowly helps Seunghyun straighten, never letting up his grip. Mustering up some courage, Seunghyun looks up into Daesung’s eyes as he slowly comes to his full height. He’s a little bit taller than Daesung, giving him the perfect advantage to see the light freckles sprinkled across Daesung’s tan nose. He wants to count every single one, but then becomes distracted by Daesung’s round cheeks that would fit so perfectly in his hands. His eyes continue to travel around Daesung’s face, memorizing every detail. When he stops at Daesung’s lips, he licks his own. 

“Are you ok, hyung?” Daesung asks softly, eyes curiously watching Seunghyun. His hands grip Seunghyun a little tighter. Seunghyun feels a little lost in those eyes—sparkling as if they hold the secrets to the world. He feels a bit drunk, or perhaps still half asleep. He swallows, his mouth dry as his gaze finds its way back to Daesung’s lips. His heart feels like it’s pounding right out of his chest.

 _It would be so easy to just bend down and taste him_ , Seunghyun thinks. All he’d have to do is lean over and—

_Ding!_

Seunghyun jumps back in surprise as the elevator doors slide open, allowing another tenant to step inside the cramped space. Seunghyun gains some sort of control over this body once more, bowing slightly and shuffling to make room for the unexpected rider. He fiddles with his briefcase and adjusts his glasses, taking a shaking breath. _What was that?!_ He doesn’t dare look over at Daesung, completely mortified with what almost happened. He screws he eyes shut as he mentally berates himself and silently prays for the ride down to the lobby to be over. They’ve just barely begun to see each other outside of their apartment for coffee or late night snacks. _How stupid could I be to ruin the precarious state of our budding friendship like that?_

When the doors finally open up into the lobby, Seunghyun lets go of the breath he had been holding, closely following the other riders out the doors. All he has to do is make it on time to his bus and he can start his day over again. _God, why didn’t he drink some coffee?!_ But he stops in his tracks at the door when he feels a slight tug on his jacket. He doesn’t dare turn around. 

“Hyung, are you alright?” Daesung asks softly. Seunghyun swallows, trying to compose himself.

“Yeah, I-I’m fine. I’m just a little…tired. I didn’t get any coffee in me today,” he manages to mumbles. 

“Let me treat you to a coffee then,” Daesung offers, but Seunghyun simply shakes his head, praying to get out of this humiliating situation. He’s sure Daesung saw what he was daydreaming about on his face. _How could he not?_ Seunghyun is _terrible_ at hiding his thoughts and feelings from his face. 

“S-sorry, I’m actually running really late this morning. Maybe another time?“ Seunghyun replies, sounding a little harsher than he intended. The grip on his jacket loosens as he hears a soft sigh escape the perfect pair of lips he was just dreaming of kissing. 

“Oh….okay. Well, I won’t keep you. Have a nice day,” Daesung mumbles. Seunghyun waits half a second, trying to decipher the tone in Daesung’s voice. He also sounds tired, maybe even… _disappointed?_ Seunghyun shakes his head, moving forward into the morning before he lets himself dwell on the thought. _Stop being delusional_ , he thinks to himself. _It’ll only end in heartache. You should be so lucky to even be friends with him._

=========

Seunghyun hugs the bag to his body, the smell of crispy, breaded chicken wafting into his nose. He inhales, practically salivating at the thought of having this late night snack. It’s been one hell of a week at work, but he was able to turn in the final plans to the city just before they closed for the day. The final paperwork took some time, but it’ll all be worth it. The building is going to look _amazing._ As a reward for getting everything done on time for one, he’s going to drink all the cheap beer he wants and down the entire bucket of fried chicken himself. It’s going to be _glorious_. 

Or so he thought. 

He realizes now, in his house slippers and rumpled work clothes, that he left his apartment keys inside. He was in such a hurry to get the chicken from the delivery man that he completely locked himself out. _Fuck._

Sighing, Seunghyun fishes for his phone. He scrolls through his contacts, thinking how he can salvage his celebratory weekend burnout. The rental office is closed until the morning, so he can’t call the landlord. His sister has a spare key, but it’s pretty late and he doesn’t want to wake her up (and his adorable toddler nephew by extension). He took Jiyong’s key away after he had barged in unannounced more than once (one time to steal some wine. His _wine!_ ). As his fingers slide across the screen, he pauses on “Kang Daesung”. He stares at his phone blankly for a few minutes, internally debating whether to bother his neighbor. Though they’ve gotten closer over the last few months, he’s not entirely sure _where_ in the friend zone he stands. He’s hoping they are in a state where asking for help isn’t too much. _Maybe he could let me wait at his place while I call a locksmith?_ Yes, that seems like a reasonable request, he psyches himself up. 

He’s about to press call when he suddenly remembers that Daesung works most weekend nights—Friday being a particularly popular day for theaters. He bites his lip, hesitating, and instead sends a text. After a few moments of silence and no reply from Daesung, Seunghyun begins to panic. _Maybe he was wrong? Maybe Daesung is still out? Maybe he’s at the theater? What if he’s out with friends? Or on a date? What if—_

His spiraling thoughts are cut short when Daesung’s door opens behind him. His silver-blue hair shimmers in the dim hallway lighting. He leans against the door jam, smiling. “Lock yourself out, huh?” Seunghyun pouts, truly looking pathetic. 

Daesung gives him a once over, eyeing the bag of chicken. The friendly smile morphs into a cheshire cat grin. “If you let me eat some of that chicken, I’ll let you have some of my beer. Deal?” Seunghyun considers it for a minute. He relents, nodding. What other choice does he have? He _really_ wants a drink.

Daesung moves back, letting Seunghyun pass him into the apartment. Seunghyun takes a moment to look around. The layout is a mirror to his, but designed completely differently. While Seunghyun’s is modern and sleek, Daesung’s is eclectic and homey. Plants are scattered everywhere around the place, while playbills collect on the coffee table and music books are stacked haphazardly on shelves, the furniture a deep dark wood that makes it feel cozy. It’s not messy, but it looks more lived in than Seunghyun’s overly neat home. It feels warm and inviting, much like Daesung himself. 

“Make yourself at home,” Daesung says as he pulls some beers from the fridge. “You’re lucky it’s my one night off this month, or you’d probably have to eat your chicken out in the hallway,” Daesung sasses Seunghyun, settling on the couch. Seunghyun _tsks_ , giving Daesung a look that says _don’t sass me (but please do because it turns me on)_ before following Daesung over to the couch. He hesitates for a second before deciding to sit at the complete opposite end, giving them each plenty of personal space. In the last few months he’s gotten a little more used to being around Daesung, but still keeps his guard up. Seunghyun’s senses still feel like an exposed live wire when he’s near Daesung, and he can’t risk doing or saying something he’ll regret. He’s more than perfectly happy to stay in _friends only_ territory—it’s more than he’s ever thought he would get. Having Daesung in his life, in some form, is better than not having him there at all. Now that he knows him, he can’t get enough of him. It both gives him hope for the future and causes him heartache. 

Seunghyun shakes his head, derailing his thoughts before he gets depressed. He has chicken he needs to eat. He takes Daesung’s offered beer can and places the bucket of fried chicken between them. They cheers to a night in, and begin munching down. They talk about their weeks (Seunghyun _just_ hitting his deadline and Daesung’s gossip of the romantic ongoings at the theater) and Seunghyun feels warm and fuzzy. It’s so easy being with Daesung, he feels he can be himself without fear of judgement. He wants to tell him everything and listen to everything in return. 

He’s so fucking in love and he doesn’t know what to do about it. 

As the chicken disappears and they are each on their third beer, Seunghyun can feel himself slipping. He’s becoming more bold, not watching his words as carefully as he normally would around Daesung, and sometimes touching his leg affectionately when the younger says something ridiculously funny (at least Seunghyun thinks it’s funny). At one point Daesung laughs so hard, his silver hair falls into his eyes, blocking Seunghyun’s view of his favorite smiling-eyes.

Before he knows what he’s doing, his body moves on its own—his hand coming up to brush stray hair out of Daesung’s face. _It’s so soft,_ Seunghyun thinks, letting his hand settle gently on Daesung’s big, round cheeks for a second longer before he has to force his hand back to his side of the couch.

But he lingers for too long, and their comfortable laugher subsides into a tense silence. The air feels thick, and Seunghyun can feel his heart beating out of his chest. Daesung slowly moves his hand to grasp Seunghyun’s wrist, holding his hand in place on his cheek. Seunghyun’s skin burns where Daesung’s touches him, but he can’t seem to pull away. He watches as Daesung scoots the few feet that separate them on the couch, erasing any pretense of friendly distance.

“Why haven’t you done it yet, hyung?” Daesung asks, voice light and breathy. 

“W-what?” Seunghyun stutters.

“Kissed me?”

Seunghyun’s hand involuntary twitches, grasping onto Daesung’s face more firmly. He stares at him, eyes wide in surprise, heart racing. _What?_

“W-what?” Seunghyun says again. He’s pretty sure his brain has exploded and his soul has left his body.

“You’ve wanted to, haven’t you? In the elevator that morning, and now?” Daesung asks, his eyes flickering down to Seunghyun’s lips before returning to stare at Seunghyun intensely. “Or have I been reading this situation all wrong?”

“Yes! Wait no, I mean no? Er,” What he _means_ to say is ‘Yes I’ve wanted to kiss you; No you haven’t been reading the situation all wrong.’ But he can’t seem to get his racing thoughts in order. And the longer he flounders, the more uncertain Daesung becomes.

“I-I see,” Daesung mutters, letting go of Seunghyun’s wrist and pulling back. He bites his lip and looks away, playing with the frayed threads of his ripped jeans. “I had been dropping hints, and I thought—I thought you were too, but I guess I was wrong.” Seunghyun feels paralyzed by the revelation. Daesung has been dropping hints? _Flirting?_ All this time he’s been freaking out and panicking that he’s making Daesung feel uncomfortable when really—

“I’m sorry, hyung. I just thought—you’re really great, you know? Smart, funny, kind of awkward but in an adorable way. And incredibly handsome. I guess I was reaching too high.”

The excitement in his heart soon turns to panic as he sees Daesung begin to stand up. _Seunghyun, what are you doing?! Don’t let him leave!_ Seunghyun’s brain yells at him. _Tell him how you feel before it’s too late. Kiss him! Do something, or you’ll lose him forever!_

That’s the thought that prompts him to action. He’s lived with a ridiculous one-sided crush for two years and never did anything about it. This whole time Daesung has done most of the work in their friendship—engaging him in conversations in the hallway, inviting him out for coffee or dinner, offering to help him fix his clogged sink. And still, Seunghyun just sat back and let things happen _to_ him. Even now, Daesung does the heavy lifting, bearing his heart to Seunghyun.

But not anymore. 

Seunghyun lunges forward, pulling Daesung’s wrist down so he’s back on the couch. Daesung watches him with wide eyes as Seunghyun takes a deep breath. _You’ve been kicking around in the shallow end for too long_ , he tells himself. _Now it’s time to take a dive into the deep end._ Seunghyun moves forward to crowd in on Daesung, cradling his face, pinning him with a hot gaze. His mind is singularly focused on the plush, slightly parted lips of the man he’s craved for years. Daesung’s face feels hot in his hands, and Seunghyun swears he can hear their hearts racing together.

“Seunghyun,” Daesung breathes out, barely a whisper, and that’s all Seunghyun needs to make the final push. He presses his lips to Daesung’s, electricity sparks between their lips and he swears he can see stars behind his eyes. Daesung doesn’t hesitate to kiss Seunghyun back tongue parting lips hungrily and tasting every last inch he can. Seunghyun basks in the attention, chasing Daesung’s tongue with his own, letting him explore as much as he wants. He is more than willing to please Daesung in any way possible. Daesung takes advantage, dominating the kiss and pushing Seunghyun back until his head hits the couch’s arm.

It’s not the most elegant or life shattering kiss he’s ever had—it’s sloppy and wet and little off center. _But it’s perfect_ . Daesung tastes amazing, his lips soft and pliant under Seunghyun’s. And he _feels_ amazing. Seunghyun’s hands roam around, feeling Daesung’s taut muscles hidden under his one of many black t-shirts. How does Daesung make such a simple article of clothing so damn _hot?_ He bites down on Daesung’s bottom lip, feeling it become bruised under his abuse. Daesung breathes in sharply, the sensation eliciting a small moan. It sends a sharp pang of need to Seunghyun’s groin, encouraging him to repeat the action, coaxing Daesung’s _beautiful_ voice to sing for him.

But it also shocks him out of his hazy dream. This is too much all at once. It’s what he’s wanted, and it’s going by too fast. He doesn’t want to stop, but he also wants to _savor_ it. Seunghyun reluctantly pulls back, resting his forehead on Daesung’s, their heavy breathing mingling. Seunghyun brings his hand back to Daesung’s cheek, caressing it softly and opening his eyes slowly. Daesung stares back at him, his eyes blown wide and cheeks rosy, plump lips wet and swollen. It’s the most beautiful thing Seunghyun has ever seen.

“You weren’t reading the situation wrong,” Seunghyun _finally_ manages to say. “I’ve liked you since the moment I first saw you across the hall. And I’m _really_ terrible at these kinds of things.”

Daesung smiles wide, his eyes crinkling into half moons, a chuckle bubbling up in his chest. He nudges Seunghyun with his nose affectionately. “Why do you think I came over asking for a cup of sugar?” 

Seunghyun pulls back, confused. “What?”

Daesung smiles again, his eyes softening. “Hyung, I didn’t _actually_ need sugar. I just wanted an excuse to talk to you. You see—you always seemed so _mysterious_ and quiet. I wanted to get you out of your shell a little bit. And it turns out, you are pretty great. How could I _not_ fall for you?”

Seunghyun runs a hand through Daesung’s silky hair, taking his time to really feel it through his fingers. _God the amount of times he’s thought about doing this exact thing._ “I am kind of awkward,” he mumbles but smiles. It’s the type of smile that reaches his eyes, makes his dimples really pop out. The kind of smile that made Daesung instantly fall for Seunghyun. 

“You’re only a _little_ awkward when you are in your head too much. The rest of the time? Effortlessly sexy,” Daesung whispers. He leans over and plants a soft, lazy kiss on Seunghyun’s pouty lips. “How about we clean up and you can help me make those sugar cookies I promised you?”

Seunghyun laughs. “Do you need some sugar? I have some you can borrow.”

“And how, exactly, will you get the sugar, since you are locked out?” _Dammit, I forgot,_ Seunghyun pouts to himself. “Guess that means you’ll just have to spend the night here,” Daesung says devilishly before planting one last kiss on Seunghyun’s lips and pulling them both off the couch. 

Seunghyun allows himself to be led away, in a complete haze of happiness. _He should get locked out of his apartment more often._

**Author's Note:**

> I forgot I had started writing this back in 2016. Just found it in an old folder of dumped fics. It was 95% done, so I decided to finish it up and post it. Just a sweet, short fluff fic of one dumb man hopelessly crushing on his adorable neighbor. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! 
> 
> follow me on tumblr [@sassy-dae](https://www.sassy-dae.tumblr.com/)


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